round the
tent, examining the grass.

"Plenty blackfellow been here," he said, "but only one fellow been go
inside tent. I think it, he catch him up missie when she sleep------"

An oath broke from Scott's lips. "Let me down, boss, let me down! It's
all my fault. Quick! put me inside the tent and let me be. You and Jacky
has two good horses, and Jacky is the best tracker this side o' the
country."

"I'll see to your leg first, Dick," cried Grainger, as he and Jacky
lifted him off Euchre and helped him into the tent.

"By jingo, you won't, boss!" was the energetic reply. "What does it
matter about my leg? Let me be. I'll pull along all right, even if you
are away for a day, or two days, or a week. For God's sake, boss, don't
fool about me! Think of _her_. Saddle up, saddle up, and bring her back!
They can't be far away. Jacky, I'll give you fifty pounds if you get
her. Boss, take plenty o' cartridges an' some tucker. I'll be as right
as rain here. But hurry, hurry, boss! If they get her into the mountains
we'll never see any more of her but her gnawed bones," and the big man
struck his clenched fist passionately upon the ground.

But Grainger, although almost maddened with fear as to Sheila's fate,
would not leave the man helpless, and whilst Jacky was saddling the
horses, he put provisions and water, and matches and tobacco, near the
poor, excited digger. Then, with the blackboy's aid, he quickly and
effectively set the broken leg with proper splints, seized round with
broad strips of ti-tree bark. "There, Dick, that's all I can do for you
now." "You're losing time over me, boss. Hurry, hurry! and get the young
lady back for God's sake."

Five minutes later Jacky had picked up the tracks of Sandy and Daylight
and their allies, and he and Grainger, with hearts beating high with
hope, were following them up swiftly and surely.

CHAPTER XIV ~ "MISS CAROLINE" IS "ALL RIGHT" (VIDE DICK SCOTT )

The tracks of the abductors of Sheila were easily discernible to the
practised eyes of Jacky--than whom a better tracker was not to be found
in North Queensland. They led in an almost direct line towards the
grim mountain range for about seventeen miles, and then were lost at
a rapidly-flowing, rocky-bottomed stream--a tributary of that on which
Grainger's camp had been made.

Never for one instant did Grainger think of questioning the judgment
of his tried and trusted blackboy, when, as they came to the stream, he
j